


Pater Familias

by igrab



Series: Everlong [2]
Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrab/pseuds/igrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But - really? I mean, jeez, this isn't just 'hey can you pick up the laundry' or 'hey can you be my trophy wife so people don't notice I'm gay' - this is nine months of pain and oh my god, you're serious."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pater Familias

Ever since Flynn had, in everything but name, moved into Alan's house, it had become a social safe haven for those 'in the know' and, somewhere along the line, a Friday night movie tradition had developed. Flynn called it their 'double date', with a cheeky grin firmly in place. Alan shook his head. That only worked if their wives were secretly having at it, which he was pretty sure wasn't going to happen any time soon. Jordan, maybe. But Lora - 

He didn't even want to talk about Lora. She still lived with them, still played the married wife, but he knew it hurt her, that he didn't love her like that. They fought more and more these days. He hated it; she deserved better than this. Better than him. (She was talking, too, about looking for work somewhere else - that made him sad, too, but it would probably be for the best. Eventually.)

But Lora wasn't there tonight, Lora was working late at the lab and if Flynn's cajoling couldn't pry her from her lasers, nothing would. Alan tried not to feel so relieved.

"When's Jordan coming?" he asked, as they unloaded groceries in the kitchen and Flynn leaned against the counter, eyes bright.

"We've got time," he said, the words drawled out long and slow.

That was the thing about Flynn, really. Alan was just powerless against him. Whatever doubts he had when he was alone, whatever worries would seize him - none of that mattered, when it was just the two of them. Nothing else mattered.

The front door shut with a loud 'thunk' and a familiar wry voice followed it. "You know, boys, your six-month amnesty period is over."

Flynn (who'd had his hands up Alan's shirt and down the back pockets of his jeans, unfairly) pulled back and turned with an enormous, sunny grin. "Jordan!"

"Hey, don't mind me. Carry on, I'm just here for the popcorn." She did tilt her head so Flynn could kiss her cheek, though, and set about putting away the forgotten groceries.

Alan blushed and tucked his shirt back into his pants. "I'm sorry, Flynn said we had time - "

"Haven't you learned not to believe anything he says?" Jordan teased.

Alan loved Jordan. No really, he _loved_ her, so much it made him dizzy sometimes. She was simply the best friend they'd ever had, and the best person Alan could ever have hoped for in Flynn's life. She was sweet, accepting, funny, just bossy enough not to let Flynn get to her, and completely one hundred percent dedicated to her career. The day Flynn had jokingly chatted her up was probably the second-best day of Alan's life (The first day was the day that he and Flynn - well - _you know_ ). She was exactly the sort of non-wife wife that Flynn, CEO of Encom, needed, and somewhere along the line she'd become as dedicated to Alan and Flynn's relationship as they were themselves. It was truly amazing.

He was more than a little jealous of her. Flynn had the most awesome, beautiful wife to ever grace the pages of _Scientific American_ , and Alan had... Lora.

He kept having to remind himself that Lora was, all things considered, a very good cover wife. But she wasn't Jordan.

"Kevin Flynn, if you make us watch _A New Hope_ one more time, I am _so_ divorcing you."

Alan pouted. "...but I like Star Wars..."

"Fine - " Flynn said, with his best grin, " - we won't. We'll watch _The Empire Strikes Back_ instead and don't you even dare complain about it."

They laughed, but really, Star Wars was something they could all agree on, and watching it together always felt so perfect - comfortable, familiar, _right_.

•

Flynn, for some reason, was especially affectionate that Friday. He was never still, either, so when all of his wriggling and shifting and rolling around was centered on Alan's lap, it made for a very uncomfortable but still frankly adorable sort of evening. When the credits rolled, Alan turned the volume down, and Flynn, changing position yet again, flipped over so his head was in Alan's lap. Automatically, he shoved his fingers in his hair, rubbed at bit at his scalp. Flynn sighed, deeply. Too deeply. Alan frowned.

"What's on your mind?"

It was always when he was most serious that Flynn attempted to sound most casual. It had taken Alan a depressingly long time to work that one out - especially when Jordan picked up on it roughly the first five minutes into their acquaintance, when she'd seen through his overdramatic come-ons to a man who really just needed a friend. This time was no different. Flynn wiggled his toes and shrugged, and for a second Alan was fooled until he caught the doubtful look on Jordan's face. Right. This is the only way he knows how to be serious.

"Dunno, just thinking." He flicked his eyes up to Alan's face and grinned like glass. "I love you and all, but, I dunno, it sucks that we won't ever have kids."

The silence after that stretched out a little awkwardly, as it had a tendency to do, when Alan had no clue how to address what Flynn was _really_ saying, and Jordan trying to decide if she should intervene or not. She almost always did, anyway, but more than once she'd reminded Alan that she was just his wife, not his lover, and she really only had a business telling them what to do if they really couldn't work it out for themselves. But Alan was lost on this one. Kids? He'd never thought about having kids. Wait, that was a lie. He'd thought about it plenty, when he'd thought that a wife and family and white picket fence was the only possibility for a future. He knew better now. And ever since he'd taken up with Flynn, he hadn't even considered it. Not once.

But really. Thank God for Jordan.

"Oh, Flynn, you just want a little carbon copy of yourself." She rolled her eyes, and Alan couldn't help but laugh. Yeah, jokes at Flynn's ego never got old.

"Do not!" He sat up, leaned forward on his elbows, but he did grin ruefully after a moment. "...Well, okay, maybe a little. But it isn't just that. I just - " he glanced sideways at Alan, like he wasn't _sure_ , for some reason, and Alan raised an eyebrow because really? _Really?_ They were in far too deep for Alan to hold anything against him, least of all this. 

"...I always wanted to be a dad. I never even wanted to get married, or fall in love, or be successful at anything - " and he'd clearly done all those things, exceptionally at that " - I just wanted to have a kid. To be a parent. I don't know." He ducked his head quickly at riffled his hands through the curls at the back of his head, a nervous habit. "It's nothing, just a thought. It doesn't even matter."

And then, Alan had to remind himself that they'd only been together for, what, seven months? Eight? Not nearly long enough to know everything about each other, to be such a part of each other's lives that nothing would come as a surprise. Alan couldn't wait. He wasn't a fan of surprises, and Flynn was like a nested set of locked boxes sometimes, each new unveiled secret revealing five more. He'd get there. He'd know all of him, someday. But not yet, he didn't know everything, and that was okay. He reminded himself.

He smiled, because the thought made him smile. Flynn as a father. Yes, he could see it all too well. He supposed that made him the mom, and that wasn't even demeaning in the slightest. He loved his mother, he respected mothers everywhere. And, well, yes. He'd sort of always been maternal.

Wait, why was he even thinking about this.

Jordan looked thoughtful, too, but it was of a different sort - her brow was furrowed and her lips pursed, like there was something she really wanted to say but really didn't know if she should, if it was a good idea. Flynn noticed, though. "What, what's on your mind?"

"Well, I guess." And now it was her turn to try for flippancy, when she really meant to be serious. "If you wanted to have a child, I'd be willing to... do the having, so to speak."

It took Alan a moment to pick out what that sentence actually meant, but when he did, he sucked in a breath.

Flynn was faster. "What? You would? No, you're joking, stop joking around. That's ridiculous."

"But I would. Really I would." Jordan watched their disbelieving faces for a moment before rolling her eyes and sighing. "Look, every girl secretly wants to be pregnant at least once in her life, and not only would I get the both of you fawning over me, I wouldn't even have to do all the work of raising a kid. Besides, I love the both of you to death. I'm really not kidding when I say there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, up and including using my womb to have your children."

If Flynn's jaw could physically hit the floor, it would be doing so, right then. As it was it took him a minute to stop gawping, and to find the words, and when he did it sort of hit Alan home that yes, they were having this conversation and yes, Flynn and Jordan were very serious about this.

"But - really? I mean, jeez, this isn't just 'hey can you pick up the laundry' or 'hey can you be my trophy wife so people don't notice I'm gay' - this is nine months of pain and oh my god, you're serious." He was staring, staring at her face that hadn't moved, hadn't started laughing, was just looking back at him with the very serenest and most beautiful of expressions. "You're serious. You are seriously willing to - to have my child." 

He looked quickly at Alan, and Alan knew immediately what was holding him back. He smiled. Obviously, said child would genetically be Flynn and Jordan's, but it would also be Alan's, because everything of Flynn's was Alan's and they were in this together. He chuckled, reached over and threaded his fingers through Flynn's.

"I might not be the best mom out there, but I can damn well try," he said, and that was all the confirmation any of them needed.

•

Nine or so months later, Jordan Samantha Canas gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, and Alan and Flynn jointly decided to ditch all of the name choices they'd bickered about, because they were in full awe of Jordan's womb and suddenly the only name they could possibly give him was Sam. 


End file.
